


Merciless In Dream

by Kyra_Neko_Rei



Series: In Which I Mistake Inktober For A Writing Challenge [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Anger Management, Dreams, Gen, Imagine that, In a manner of speaking, Leia Does Not Like Darth Vader, Leia is hella vicious when she wants to be, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 11:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16196855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Neko_Rei/pseuds/Kyra_Neko_Rei
Summary: After Alderaan, after Cloud City, after Endor, Leia dreams of having Darth Vader at her mercy, and having none.He has found many ways to torture her. She's all too happy to return the favor.Sometimes good is not nice, and sometimes it isn't good.(Blood Sport/Revelations/Worst Fear)





	Merciless In Dream

 

Leia Organa is not vicious, except when she is, and when she is, it’s usually because Darth Vader is involved.

 

She’s dreaming, in a stateroom berth on a Hammerhead winging through hyperspace, with tears dried on her face from a night spent mourning Alderaan, yet again.

 

Darth Vader is standing before her, his hands cuffed behind him, surrounded by helmeted Rebel guards with alternating shockpikes and vibrospears.

 

She seizes a spear from the nearest guard, hefts it in her hands, and drives it through his armor, past ribs, into the bottom of his heart where the vein connects.

 

He bleeds like any human, thick and red, and he sinks to his knees and looks at her as she dies, and she wonders how she can perceive the spark of life leaving him when the mask looks precisely the same.

 

*

 

Leia Organa is not usually sadistic, but there are exceptions.

 

She is slumped over in the pilot’s seat of the Millennium Falcon, wearing Han’s jacket and Han’s trousers with the red Corellian bloodstripe over the ridiculous dancer’s outfit, her hair undone and her head pillowed in her arms on the console, asleep and dreaming of the chain she killed Jabba with wrapped around Darth Vader’s, twisted around his wrists and neck and pinning his arms to his torso.

 

He can’t be strangled like this; he has armor protecting against it, so she reaches out to take his lightsaber and it thrums with power as the red blade springs forth from her hand.

 

“It wasn’t enough to destroy my planet, you had to try and destroy my lover, too?”

 

He watches her silently, and she hauls on the chain, backing up and pulling him forward like she pulled when she strangled Jabba, and smiling with a sort of feral satisfaction when he lands on his knees. She lets the lightsaber brush his chest on the way down, and there is a change in the sound, cloth and metal and flesh sizzling, a scorched place on his armor.

 

She brings the heavy saber up and draws another line across his chest, more deliberately this time. Presses the blade into the flesh, watches gleefully as he tenses in response to the pain.

 

Again.

 

Again.

 

Again.

 

*

 

Leia Organa is cruel.

 

On Endor, she sleeps curled up against Han, worried for Luke, confused and distressed at how certain he is that there is something worth saving in his father.

 

Their father.

 

She dreams of Vader, bound to a branch like the Ewoks do with their prisoners, and she picks up a stick and swings it hard into his armored face. There is a muffled crack and since the facemask looks the same as it did, she hopes she’s broken his nose.

 

“You know, you held your daughter in your arms once,” she says.

 

He watches her, silent save for the measured intake and exhale of breath, louder than the night insects and the distant drums.

 

“You remember when, of course,” she says.

 

There is the slightest hint of a reaction, a not-quite flinch. He’s spent millions of credits on bounty hunters and diverted huge amounts of Imperial resources to look for his son, supposedly, Luke says, out of love or something like it. Simply because Luke exists. She'll believe him capable of love, for the moment, just because it's useful.

 

He has a son, and to all accounts he loves him, simply for being his child. Now she knows he has a daughter too, and she wishes she could rip the knowledge out of her skull.

 

Since she can’t, she’ll use it to hurt him.

 

“You held her to force her to watch her planet be destroyed.”

 

Is that pain she feels from him? Regret? Guilt? Shame? Is this the work of the Force in her, that she can feel the anger in him, fury that she was kept from him, interrupted with the pain of his failures?

 

She almost hopes Luke comes back with him, so she can say this to him in truth.


End file.
